


Like Summer Flowers

by IWasHereMomentsAgo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWasHereMomentsAgo/pseuds/IWasHereMomentsAgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helga and Rowena spend their first summer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Summer Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> In a fit of embarrassment I deleted the earlier Helga/Rowena fic I wrote for [aliferlia](../users/aliferlia/) so wrote this for them at 2am as a replacement. Surprisingly for me there is NO HIDDEN FLOWER LANGUAGE??? Though daisies do mean "innocence" if you're interested.

We met in late spring. There were so few people in the small town where I lived that I noticed her arrival immediately, though we did not speak until a week later. The sound of her laugh and the way the sun caught her dark hair made the breath catch in my throat and made me more awkward than I had any reason to be; it frustrated me endlessly that whenever I set out to introduce myself my words refused to form and she was gone before I could say anything at all. When I finally did manage to introduce myself after rehearsing my words more times than I cared to admit, I discovered her name was Helga and she was visiting family for the summer. Her smile was bright and easy, and I found myself offering to show her around. She had been here long enough that no doubt my offer was obsolete, but I was both too young and too eager to come up with anything better or more subtle, and she in any case agreed.

I had never found it terribly easy to make friends. I was an only child and had long since learnt to appreciate the company of books rather than that of my peers, but Helga made it so very easy. After our first day together we found we got along tremendously, and made plans to meet again. I soon found that her intelligence and her imagination were only outweighed by her kindness and honesty and she quickly became my first true friend. She reminded me somewhat of the earth - and not only because of the varied and impressive knowledge she possessed of its various flora and the magical properties they held (or the fondness with which she crafted crowns of daisies for the both of us). I found it difficult to explain to even myself; she was a comfort to me, warm and safe and _there_ after so few others had been. 

I found myself continuously impressed by her, something which surprised me greatly. She told wonderful stories, each one with a happy ending and yet each one kept me hooked. She would, upon occasion, go home before she finished and leave me guessing at what happened next and no matter how many theories I came up with that night she would always surprise me upon our next meeting. I envied her her imagination but at the same time was glad she had been bestowed with it rather than I - I found that I would much rather listen to her than be the one speaking myself, though I discovered that she also loved to listen to me talk and so we learnt from each other; she traded her knowledge of charms and food for my knowledge of potions and art. I drew her once, among the flowers. I presented it to her shyly, knowing I would never be skilled enough to capture her likeness exactly; no matter how hard I tried I found it impossible to convey the warmth in her eyes or recreate the way her smile made my heart ache, yet she seemed pleased enough by it and so I felt I had done my job the best I could. The truth was, she was entirely beautiful and I was entirely lost. 

It was nearing the end of summer when we were sitting together in one of the fields we frequented on our walks. Helga liked this one in particular for the amount of daisies and was once again making daisy crowns for the both of us. We had fallen into an easy silence after she had finished telling me about a potion she would like to work on with me the next time she visited and I had taken to lying on the grass beside her. She would look up now and then, catch my eye and smile in a way which made my chest hurt, something she had recently been doing with a startling frequency; she made my heart feel strange and dangerous things I thought it best not to allow myself to consciously address lest I do something illogical - it would not do to ruin our friendship. It had grown too precious for me to risk it for selfish reasons. I did my best not to dwell on it, however, and let myself become so absorbed in watching the way her hands moved about the stems of the flowers that I almost missed it when she said, “I will be going home soon, you know.”

I looked up at her.  One of her long curls had fought its way free of her braid, and for a moment I wished I could free the rest for her and braid it again. The heat was evidently making me silly. “I suppose you’re excited?” I asked, pleased to note I had been successful in my attempt to keep out of my voice the sadness I felt that she would soon be gone. 

She fell quiet again for a minute or so, concentrating on the daisies. “You’ll come and visit, of course? Until I come back here again?”

My heart thrilled. “You would like me to?”

“I would like nothing more.”

There was a solemness to her voice I didn’t quite understand, but then she had a habit of making me feel very stupid. I had no idea how she could be so completely unbearable and so unaware of it herself. I had actually confessed once I thought her far too clever for me, and she had only gestured around my library and laughed. I had never been very good at expressing my feelings, and so couldn’t tell her how much I admired her, nor could I tell her of the pride that I felt whenever I told her something she didn’t already know. Instead I had merely shrugged and gone back to my embroidery, wishing I could be braver.

“There,” she said after a while, having finished the crown. She placed it on her head and looked to me. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful.” I rarely allowed myself to speak without thinking, and yet around her I made a habit of it. I had long since given up hope that I would grow out of it.

She gave me an odd look at that, and I wondered if I had somehow been too forward. “Rowena?” I waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have changed her mind and instead offered me my own crown. I sat up and she placed it on my head. 

Another look of uneasiness washed over her and I couldn’t help but to ask, “What’s wrong, Helga?”

She took an unsteady breath. “It’s just that I- I’m not entirely sure if...”

It was a far cry from her usual honesty and it worried me. “You can tell me.”

“I’m not sure if I can. You see...” I could tell she was wishing she had still had the flowers in her hands to occupy herself with. “It’s just that I _am_ going home soon and I’m going to miss you _terribly_ and I’d just very much like to- I’d very much like to kiss you before we went perhaps _months_ with only letters and-” 

“Helga.” My heart had begun to hammer; it was an awful distraction. I almost wanted her to repeat herself, to be quite sure I hadn’t misheard, but I couldn’t make her do that - she looked more uncomfortable than I had ever seen her and it was down to me. My words had failed me, so instead I took her hands in mine. I immediately wished I hadn’t for I found that they were shaking. Unless it were _her_ hands, but that was no comfort either. I had to say something to ease her nerves, and yet I found myself at a loss. “I would like that too,” I said, unable to be more graceful. 

“Oh.”

The fact she seemed surprised was almost enough to hurt, but before I could think too hard about it she pressed her lips against mine. It was fleeting and nervous and I was quite sure it barely counted as an actual kiss and yet my heart had sped up enough to make me dizzy. “We can- we can do that again if you would like,” I said, though I wasn’t quite sure how we would go about that if she was as unable as I was to make eye contact.

It seemed she did not share my problem, however, for once again her lips were on mine, harder this time and more sure of herself, yet still we both found ourselves at a loss as to what to do with our hands and I was fighting the urge to giggle - which was not something I made a habit of. I was entirely unsure as to what to do with myself and yet it was the happiest I had ever felt to find that there was something I did not know, and happier still that it seemed something Helga was equally unfamiliar with. Perhaps this was something that neither of us could teach the other. Perhaps it was, simply, something we would learn together.


End file.
